All Her Fire
by Chrmdpoet
Summary: The sound echoed through the room like the crack of a whip, like a firecracker in the night sky complete with a burst of color behind Regina's eyelids.


**A/N: This is a one-shot based on a tumblr prompt I received that asked for a story in which Robin strikes Regina, Regina goes to Emma for solace, Emma cares for Regina, and Emma beats Robin up. It grew too long to put in my drabbles section, so I figured I would post it separately. I hope you enjoy! XO-Chrmdpoet**

**Altered Past Canon Event in which Rumpel goes through with his attack on Roland in 3B.**

**TRIGGER WARNING: Minor Character Death, Violence, Physical Male-on-Female Abuse, Alcoholic Rage**

All Her Fire

Regina sighed deeply, her eyes cutting to the clock when she heard the door slam shut and the clomping sounds of heavy boots stumble through the foyer. This depressing routine had grown so old and tired that Regina could feel it seeping the life from her very veins, aging her so rapidly that she was surprised to see the full flush of beauty and youth in her reflection every time she turned to a mirror. Her heart felt as withered as the rage that once fueled her every waking moment.

Nothing burned so brightly within her anymore. All her fire—now nothing more than faintly glowing embers.

This had to stop, this cyclical sickness that had invaded her home, her lover, her soul. It had to stop.

So, for the first time in seven months, Regina sucked in a sharp, steadying breath and prepared to slice through her silence and obliterate it. She straightened her spine and marched down the stairs to find Robin bracing himself against the wall as he bent to fumble with the laces of his boots. Even from a distance she could smell the stench of liquor wafting off of him.

It was always the same. It had been this way for months, since their beginning, when the heat between them had been so overwhelming that it had sucked the oxygen from the room every time they shared the same space. That heat had long been cold.

"Robin," Regina said firmly, clearing her throat gently.

Robin's head bobbed as he turned to look up at her, nearly falling over. He blinked rapidly as he focused on her. His words slurred when he spoke, something Regina had grown accustomed to hearing. "Regina," he sighed, "my s—soulmate."

"Robin, this has to stop," Regina told the man. "Your drinking is out of control and I can't…_we_ can't live like this."

"I know," he hiccupped. "You're ri—right. I'll stop."

He'd said this many times, made this promise without prompting, only to break it over and over. He needed help, and Regina clearly was unable to provide it despite how frequently she had tried.

"You say this," Regina told him, her voice strained with the emotion she felt bubbling up from deep in her chest, "yet you never stand by it. You promise to stop, only to stumble your way home hours later. I can't keep waiting for you to finally keep that promise, Robin. What you are doing, it's harmful to the both of us."

"I know," he repeated, looking up at her with wide, pleading eyes. He held a hand out for her. "I just…I n—need some time. My Ro—my boy."

Regina's eyes shut tightly for a moment, a shock of pain ripping through her chest as the shining image of Roland's dimpled cheeks and bright smile flashed through her mind. She sucked in a hard breath as tears burned behind her eyelids. He was so precious, so young.

Her voice shook when she next spoke but she wasn't going to back down, not this time. "I know, Robin," she told him, her pain lacing her tone. "I know. You lost Roland, and nothing and no one can replace him. I know…that pain, it won't go away, and I share it, Robin, I do, but _this_ is not the way to deal with it. This, this drinking, it isn't helping you cope with the loss of your son. It's killing you, and it's killing me."

"Killing _you_?" Robin spat at her, sucking in harsh breaths as he fought back tears at the sound of his son's name. The conflict in his eyes flickered between guilt and rage, and suddenly he was shouting. These bursts of emotion had become more and more frequent as of late. One moment, the man was laughing and the next, he was apologizing and the next, he was screaming. "It's kil—killing _you! _He was _my _son!"

Those words struck Regina like a blow to the chest. "Yes, and _I loved him_, too!" she snapped back at him through gritted teeth.

"_My _son," Robin growled again, completely ignoring Regina's words. He threw his arms wildly as he shouted and stumbled toward her. "I lost _my _son. You still have yours. You still…you don—don't know! He was _all I had! All I—he was all I had! _He was all I had left of my—my Marian, and he's DEAD now. He's dead bec—because of _you!_"

Regina stumbled backwards as those words slammed into her a moment before Robin's hands wrapped around her biceps. She struggled against him before pushing him angrily away from her. "How dare you!" she shouted at him, outraged. "How dare you blame me for what Rumpel did! I _never _would have hurt Roland. I would have protected him with my life. How dare you say he died because of me!"

"He _did_!" Robin yelled at her, wobbling on his feet as he stumbled back toward her. "He died because of you, bec—because I was protecting you! Because I was protecting your heart instead of my son!"

"And how is it my fault that you couldn't protect _your _son?! That is on _you_!" Regina screamed at him on impulse. A wave of guilt instantly rolled through her gut the moment the words left her mouth. She barely took a breath before she moved to apologize.

"Robin, I'm sor—"

The words died on her tongue as her head shot to the side, her body tumbling to the floor with the force of Robin's hand smacking against the stinging flesh of her face. The sound echoed through the room like the crack of a whip, like a firecracker in the night sky complete with a burst of color behind Regina's eyelids.

Regina's own hand flew up to her face as she felt the hot rush of blood seep into the seam of her lips, and then Robin's harsh breathing filled her ears as he fell to the floor beside her and tried to pull her into his arms.

"Regina, no," he groaned, sucking in breath after breath so rapidly that he struggled to remain conscious. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I'm so sorry. Please—"

Regina smacked his arms away. "Don't!" she hissed. She pushed his body away from hers and forced herself to her feet. Her hand pressed to her temple as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed her before she regained her balance and focus. She didn't spare a look to the man who once made her warm with renewed hope before grabbing her keys and leaving him alone in the dark.

* * *

><p>Her steps were thoughtless, the path she took mindless as Regina made her way through the shadows of Storybrooke. The cold night air hit her flesh like a wave of relief. She sucked it, sharp and burning, into her lungs over and over and forced herself not to cry as she walked until she could no longer feel her feet.<p>

It was like she had flipped a switch inside herself and she moved through the night on autopilot, the feeling of Robin's hand still fresh on her face. He had never taken a hand to her before, and Regina had never believed him the type of man who would. His grief and his drinking had changed him, had turned him into someone Regina no longer recognized, someone she no longer had it in her to love. She doubted Robin could even begin to love _himself_ in this state.

Regina blinked rapidly, confused, when she snapped out of her thoughts to find herself face to face with a familiar door, her fist already poised in the air to knock. Or had she already knocked? When the hell had she even walked here, and _why_?

She turned to walk away just when the door swung open and Regina froze.

"Regina, hey, is everything al—"

Regina closed her eyes and braced herself, but nothing followed except silence. When she opened her eyes again, she found Emma simply staring at her, gaping more like, and those deep green eyes were fixed exactly where Regina knew they would be—on the smear of crimson marring her now split lip.

"Emma, I—" Regina cursed herself internally when her voice broke on the other woman's name. She swallowed thickly and clenched her teeth in order to get her next words out. "I don't know why I'm here. I'm sorry I bothered you. I will just go."

She turned quickly but stopped when she felt Emma's hand wrap gently around her forearm. "Don't you dare," the blonde whispered, and Regina was shocked to hear the thick emotion straining her voice. When Regina looked up and locked gazes with Emma, she expected to see pity, but there was none. There was only worry and maybe even a touch of understanding. Emma tugged ever so gently on Regina's arm. "Come on."

Regina glanced toward the stairwell, toward her escape, ready to leave. She should go back home, try to talk to Robin about this, try to make it right. Yes, that's exactly what she should do, and then tomorrow they could perhaps seek help for their situation.

She was yet again surprised when, moments later, she instead found herself following Emma Swan into the small space of the blonde's apartment.

* * *

><p>It happened in small flashes of awareness, entering Emma's apartment and the first few moments that followed. Regina tried to shake herself out of it, but struggled with doing so. It was like she was trapped inside her head, in an endless reel of angry outbursts and fists to faces. She couldn't shake it.<p>

Her own voice sounded muffled to her ears, like someone had cupped their hands atop them to shut out the world, as she asked Emma the whereabouts of their son.

She saw Emma's mouth move with the answer, but she didn't hear it. She heard nothing but the muffled tones of the present and the resounding booms of the dark event that had taken place prior to her arrival.

And then suddenly she was sliding onto the closed toilet seat in Emma's tiny bathroom with the blonde's guidance. Her head jerked and a quiet hiss escaped through her lips as Regina snapped back to the present with the press of a swab to her bloodied lip.

"Sorry," Emma told her, though she was thankful to see some reaction from the brunette. Regina had seemed so lost since her arrival and it worried Emma almost as much as the wound she now tended to. It wasn't like Regina to fold inward like this. Emma had expected excuses or at the very least, a few harsh, snapping remarks, but there had been none of that. Then again, Emma still wasn't sure why Regina had shown up at _her _door of all places, so perhaps it was a night for defying expectations. "I know it burns a little, but I need to clean the cut."

Regina stared at her as if she'd grown a second head. "I…" Regina's chest grew tight as she suddenly found herself so incredibly present that she could hardly breathe. The reality of the situation sank in and she bit into her tongue to keep from letting that reality rise high enough to spill over her eyelids. "I can heal myself," she managed to choke out, but Emma just shook her head.

"Maybe magic isn't the best idea right now," the blonde replied quietly. The underlying reason, that Regina was perhaps too emotional in this moment to practice even the simplest of magic, went unspoken, but Regina knew it as well as Emma did. Neither woman spoke a word after that, and Regina was surprised that she simply held her silence and let Emma tend to her.

It wasn't in her to be this submissive, especially when she felt so terribly betrayed and vulnerable. It was more in her nature to lash out, to mask her pain with anger or sarcasm, especially where Emma Swan was concerned, but Regina found she simply did not have it in her. Not now. Not in this moment when all the world seemed to have melted away and there was only the two of them—one silently caring for the other and one silently letting her.

Neither woman uttered a word as Emma doctored Regina's face, but Regina took in the lines of Emma's varying expressions throughout. She distracted herself with the twitch of Emma's lips, the tightening of her jaw, the narrowing of her eyes, the clear conflict that etched itself into the blonde's face. Emma didn't speak, but Regina could tell that she wanted to. She was thankful that Emma knew her well enough to hold her tongue, at least for now.

When they were finished in the bathroom, Emma motioned toward the kitchen. "Glass of wine?" she asked, hoping Regina would stay a bit longer, if for no other reason than that Emma wanted to try to get to the bottom of this, though she had her suspicions as to what had happened.

Regina confirmed those suspicions later as she sipped at a glass of red. The brunette cleared her throat to break the silence of the small apartment and firmly asked, "I trust you can be discreet, Miss Swan?"

Emma stared at her for a long, quiet moment, letting those words and all they implied tumble and roll through her system. A silent rage began to bubble just beneath the surface. "So I have a _reason _to be discreet?" the blonde asked, unable to hide the bite in her voice.

Regina's gaze cut sharply toward her and they locked eyes. "_That _is none of your business."

"Didn't you make it my business when you showed up here?" Emma asked her.

"I—" Regina started to retort, but it was pointless. Emma was right. "I don't know why I came here."

"Maybe because you trust me?" Emma offered. She sighed and swiped a hand through her hair. "Look, Regina, we may not be BFFs or whatever, but I think it's safe to say that we are _friends_, right? At least I hope you see me as your friend."

Regina stiffened on Emma's couch but relaxed slowly, taking another sip of her wine. She avoided Emma's gaze when she nodded. "I suppose that wouldn't be far from the truth," she admitted.

Emma smirked and scooted a bit closer to her. "You _can _just say you like me, you know."

Regina rolled her eyes and sighed. "Not before I drop dead, dear," she quipped and they both chuckled quietly. As the sound died, Regina sighed again and ran a hand through her dark locks. She shocked both herself and Emma when she whispered her next confession. "You are, perhaps, my _only _friend." She closed her eyes before opening them to look into Emma's. "At least, I don't want to kill you, so that must count for something."

Emma gave her a warm smile and reached to place a comforting hand on Regina's arm. "See?" she said, still smiling. "That's a start."

They talked through glass after glass of wine, and Emma was careful to avoid any subjects that might lead to the one subject she knew Regina did not wish to discuss. She knew they would have to talk about it sooner or later, but for now, she was happy to distract the brunette and even make her laugh a bit. She laughed too, the sound barely covering the roar of rage that still throbbed inside her.

And it only grew louder by the minute.

Emma's ability to make her laugh never failed to surprise Regina. The irritating blonde had always been uniquely skilled at reaching Regina so far below the surface—whether it be to push at her most sensitive buttons and drive her mad or to somehow make her feel less alone, less invisible. Emma Swan had always been a weakness, but sometimes in the best, albeit aggravating, ways.

When Regina fell asleep in the middle of a conversation about Henry's latest obsession with chess, Emma watched her for several long moments. Her gaze roamed over Regina's soft dark hair and smooth skin. She was as beautiful as she had always been, and she only became more-so as Emma's care for her grew with each passing day. They had come so far in the years they'd known each other. They had come so incredibly far, and though they never admitted it aloud, they had each become important to the other—someone worth fighting for.

Her eyes then fixated on the glistening salve that she had covered Regina's injury with, and that roar inside her grew deafening. She stood as quietly as possible and pulled a blanket over Regina's body. She took one last look at the woman before grabbing her keys and slipping out of the apartment.

She didn't stop to think about what she was doing before her fist was pounding against the front door of 108 Mifflin Street.

* * *

><p>A relentless throbbing in her head and face stirred Regina from sleep, and for just a moment, she was clueless. She glanced around her, confused by the small room she found herself in, and then everything began to rush back to her. Emma's apartment. The pain in her face. Robin.<p>

Her throat constricted as she tried to swallow the combination of sorrow and shame and dread that seemed to pool in her mouth, and then she realized the weight against her side. She turned slightly to see the mess of blonde curls cascading over her arm as the Savior slept heavily against her, and Regina fought the simultaneous urges to nudge her away and pull her closer.

Something about the warmth and the weight of having someone pressed against her, someone who cared, someone who had taken the time to show her compassion and love after so many months of bitter cold…Regina wanted to reject it at the same time she wanted to revel in it.

Her heart was a conflicted mess as she resolved to simply hold her position and not move an inch. Her gaze wandered, though. It drifted over Emma's serene expression, lost in slumber, and down the blonde's slender neck. Regina's brows furrowed when she noticed a small tear in the neckline of Emma's t-shirt, and her heart began to race when her gaze drifted further still.

Bruises. Dark, bloody bruises painted the pale skin of Emma's knuckles on the blonde's right hand, and Regina could not tear her gaze away from them. Her mouth went dry as she stared and stared, and then she felt her heart sink into her stomach and burn.

"Emma," she choked out, the sound thick as she forced herself to swallow. She pushed against the Sheriff until Emma stirred from sleep and jolted into a sitting position.

"Huh? What? What's going on?" Emma blurted as she swiped at her eyes and looked around, confused. Her gaze then landed on Regina, who had yet to tear her eyes away from Emma's hand. Emma followed Regina's line of sight. Her stomach flipped nervously.

"Regina, I—"

"What did you do?" Regina asked darkly, pushing slowly up off the couch.

"Regina," Emma started again, but Regina's head was shaking slowly back and forth as the brunette pressed a hand to her temple and stared at Emma with wide, wild eyes.

"_What _did you do, Emma?" the brunette snapped again.

Emma looked down at her knuckles and then back up at Regina. Her chest grew tight as Regina moved away from her. "Don't be mad," Emma pleaded, rising from the couch as well. "I had to confront him."

"_Confront _him?!" Regina barked. "It looks like you did a hell of a lot more than _confront _him! You went to my house in the middle of the night, after I distinctly asked you to be discreet about this, and you what? Beat the hell out of Robin?!"

Anger curled in Emma's gut. "He deserved it!"

"And that is for _you _to decide?" Regina snapped.

Emma pointed at Regina's lip. "Look at what he did to you! What did you expect me to do? Just let it go?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, Emma, that is _exactly _what I expected you to do!"

"Why?" Emma shouted. "So that you could go back to him? So that you could go back there and forgive him for this and try to work things out?"

Regina chewed on the inside of her cheek at Emma's bitter tone. Her jaw worked with her fury. "So what if I did? Why do you care?"

"Regina, he _hit _you!" Emma shrieked. "That's not okay."

"He didn't know what he was doing," Regina told her. "He was drunk and I—"

Emma threw up her hands. "He's always drunk, Regina! He's been drunk for months!"

"Well, what do you expect?" Regina snapped at her. "He's grieving!"

Emma's mouth snapped shut for a moment as she watched tears begin to pool in Regina's eyes. She sighed before taking a deep breath. "That doesn't give him the right to hit you. He doesn't get to take out his anger and his hurt on you. He needs help, and in the meantime, you need to stay the hell away from him."

"That isn't for you to decide," Regina quietly replied, wrapping her arms tightly around herself as her skin prickled with her discomfort.

"So, what?" Emma asked her, waving a hand. "You're just going to go back there and try to tough it out and hope this doesn't happen again? What if it does? Is that the kind of relationship you want to be in? Is that the kind of relationship you want _Henry_ to see you in?"

"Henry will never know about this!" Regina snapped firmly.

"You may not be able to hide it!" Emma countered. "What if he had been here last night, Regina? What if Henry had been the one to open that door? Then how would you have explained this?"

Regina couldn't argue that. It would have been a nightmare had Henry answered the door the night before, had he seen her like this. She knew Emma was right.

"Look," Emma told her, "you can be mad at me if you want, but I'm _not_ sorry for decking the guy. He had it coming after what he did to you, and I don't give a damn if he was drunk or angry or upset. He has a right to mourn in his own way but he doesn't have a right to put his hands on you, and someone needed to make that clear."

"He wasn't thinking!" Regina growled, tears now slipping down her cheeks. "The man lost his son!"

"Yeah," Emma told her, "and _you _avenged him. You gave Roland the justice he deserved, Regina." Her green eyes softened as she lowered her voice. "It wasn't your fault that he died, and you don't deserve to be Robin's punching bag no matter how much he hurts."

They stared at one another for a long, charged moment, the air around them suddenly alive and electric. Their breathing was harsh and shallow as they locked gazes and Emma whispered, "I would never stand by and let someone hurt you like that, not without them dealing with the consequences."

Regina's heart raced beneath her ribs as her skin grew hot and itching, and then Regina felt it, a spark inside her to set her newly ablaze. Emma's eyes were so intense in that moment that Regina could feel that green gaze as if it was a physical touch on her flesh. Those words sank into her like a loving caress and for the first time in months, she felt truly loved.

They stood a few feet apart, Regina gaping at Emma and Emma shuffling awkwardly in place, but their gazes never faltered. Emma flexed her swollen fingers as her gaze softened into a silent plea. "If it makes you feel any better," she whispered, "my hand _really_ hurts."

A strangled sound escaped Regina's throat, part laugh, part sob, and then she was moving. The room blurred into colorful streaks as tears marred her vision but her feet didn't fail her. The world melted away as her fingertips slipped along the blonde's scalp through tangled hair and her swollen lips pressed to Emma's.

Emma's sharp inhale was the only sound to break the silence as they tangled together. Their pulses raced as their lips slid desperately in a staggered rhythm, and when they pulled apart a moment later, gasping harshly and staring wide-eyed at one another, Emma still felt Regina's kiss on her lips as acutely as Regina felt Robin's fist on her own.

In a single night, everything had changed.


End file.
